


Dude, Are you Flirting With Me?

by sterekfluffer (teampancakes)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Texting, flirty!Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 16:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4106965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teampancakes/pseuds/sterekfluffer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One summer, Derek and Stiles begin texting each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. IN WHICH STILES THINKS DEREK IS FLIRTING WITH HIM

**Author's Note:**

> for the greatest tufail in the world. good luck for tomorrow. i shall give you the rest of this story vvvv soonn <3

When there's a lull in the Beacon Hills daily dose of monster, no one can believe it at first. Derek leads out the patrol squad, as Stiles calls it, every single morning, for a month straight before he grudgingly admits that their borders are strong enough for the time being, especially since, surprisingly, no one is attacking them. For the next month, no one really knows what to do and everyone goes through an awkward in-limbo phase where Stiles starts to realize that while leather jackets were cool on the Erica, Isaac and Derek trio, while they were out fighting and all, they just seem silly and too much when the jackets in question aren't being faced by monsters and evil villains. He spends an entire day trying to figure out the exact link between leather and life-threatening monsters, before realizing that it's not the jackets, no, of course not, it's the people! He has never been friends (even that word seems unfamiliar) with either Derek, Erica or Isaac outside of the 'yeah, we save this town together' capacity. Derek had only ever appeared because of the monsters situation, Erica had been a nobody before she became  **the** body, and Isaac had, uh, Isaac...? Stiles tries to think of an Isaac before Derek turned him but he can't remember.

In any case, the point Stiles is trying to make is that while he knows Scott, Allison and Lydia, heck, even Jackson and Boyd, pretty well, he has no idea about the Leather Jackets' personal lives. It's slightly unnerving, but with the lack of supernaturalism in Stiles' life comes a huge increase in normal, daily things like laundry and homework, so he doesn't really have time to think about it before summer finally starts.

On the first day of summer, Stiles' stretches out on his bed for a while before bouncing off and lurching downstairs to call Scott to come over and play CoD. On the first day of summer, Stiles ends up playing alone because Scott is busy with Allison. He frowns deeply as he plays, fearing a pattern. Scott never really had time for him even **with** the monsters in town, so why would he have time now? It's four pm before Stiles decides to get a summer job. Unfortunately, the only options available to him are at the local Starbucks, the local Starbucks or the local Starbucks. Stiles had never before been as mad at the lack of local businesses than he was at that time. Really, didn't people do anything in Beacon Hills?

*

The text from Derek surprises him greatly. Mainly because Derek has never texted him before, and his name on the phone screen made Stiles' heart flip over a little bit, okay, maybe a huge bit. But when he reads the message, he's strangely disappointed.

 **[Derek H. 10.42 am]** Pack meeting at 4 pm today.

Stiles fills out two coffee orders before he flips his phone over in his hand and types out a reply.

 **[Stiles S. 11.03 am]** Glad to see you're embracing technology and getting over the whole “breaking into my house to tell me there's a meeting” thing.

He doesn't expect a reply, because really, Derek and replying? Derek and texting? Nu-uh. So he puts his phone where he can see it the entire time and when his shift ends he's shocked to realize what he's come to: when waiting on a non-existent text from Derek would be a highlight of his day.

*

At four, Stiles knocks on the door of the loft and stumbles in when Scott opens it. Everyone's already there, which is kind of a weird feeling, so he clears his throat and takes a seat next to Lydia. Scott sits back down on the love seat.

'The bestiary needs to be in a digital, coherent form,' Derek starts, pacing the floor. 'I've contacted some old New York werewolves I know, and they've also sent over their bestiaries and papers and research and I need someone to help me compile them. I know it's summer and you're all free, which is why I'm asking you now instead of when I first got all this,' Derek pauses to indicate a table heaped with old tomes, papers and folders. 'Even though Beacon Hills has been safe for over a year now, we still need to be as prepared as we can. My New York contacts said things have been very silent for them as well, and it seems supernatural activity has died down in general, but we can never be too sure.'

'The calm before the storm,' Stiles murmurs to himself and Derek nods.

 

'Yes, this may very well be the calm before a storm,' Derek says, and Stiles looks up in surprise because he totally had not meant to say that out loud.

'So, uh, any volunteers?' Derek asks, turning to peruse some of the old material so as not to pressure anyone with his brooding presence.

Stiles frowns and bites on his bottom lip. He is the pack Researcher. Always had been, always will be. New monster? Go see Stiles. Mysterious plant growing in your back yard? Check the Stilinski house for a kid called Stiles. Healing problems or general werewolf/supernatural creature related query? Stiles to the rescue! So when Derek asks for volunteers, Stiles feels kind of hurt. Okay so maybe he sometimes went out of his way to annoy the hell out of Derek but they were good, when it came down to it, right? Or so Stiles had thought. He frowns deeply and doesn't put up his hand or say anything.

Lydia smacks close her little mirror case in which she had been checking her lip gloss and flips her hair over her shoulder. 'Well, obviously, Stiles and I will do it. I'm the translator and he compiles stuff.'

Stiles shoots her a glare which she doesn't even see. Way to go, Lydia, he thinks angrily. Now Derek was stuck with him, even if he hadn't wanted him, which was pretty likely. He crosses his arms and nods grudgingly when Derek raises his eyebrows at him. Damn those eyebrows.

*

 **[Derek H. 11.25 pm]** You don't seem very happy with Lydia's decision.

Stiles checks his phone when it buzzes, hoping desperately it's Scott, telling him that Allison has canceled that horrible week long trip to some stupid B&B somewhere very far away. It wasn't that he didn't like Allison. He loved the girl. But she and Scott had been spending too much time together, in Stiles' opinion. And while he was happy that his best friend was getting some, Stiles' would like to get some too, you know? The last time he had had sex was, well, let's see, how about never?

So when he saw Derek's name on his screen again he almost dropped his phone. Why was Derek texting him again? It was probably about the stupid bestiary business, to set up sessions or something or decide where they were going to do – oh.

Stiles glares at his phone. **He** didn't seem very happy?!

 **[Stiles S. 11.28 pm]** YOU seem to forget that I am the pack Researcher.

He hits send and puts the phone in his pocket. He clicks through some preliminary research for the bestiary. After a minute he takes his phone out and puts it next to his laptop. That way he'll be able to see the screen light up at the text. Five minutes pass, then ten. After half an hour, Stiles is thirsty and Derek hasn't texted back yet. Stiles gets up and walks to the door but when the phone buzzes he pounces immediately.

 **[Derek H. 12.10 am]** I know that.

What? He takes a freaking forty-two minutes to say just those three words!? Thirst forgotten, Stiles taps away at his phone angrily.

 **[Stiles S. 12.12 am]** You sure do type slowly, buddy.

 **[Derek H. 12.14 am]** This fast enough for you? I was having dinner and then I did the dishes.

Stiles gapes at the phone. Derek having dinner and Derek doing the dishes. Two things he never ever had imagined but now that he was being forced to, he found it completely alien and completely endearing. Wait, Derek did the dishes? That must mean he cooked his meal, because who has take out in dishes? Wow. Derek. Cooking. Uh huh.

 **[Stiles S. 12.16 am]** You cook?!

 **[Derek H. 12.19 am]** Why do you sound so surprised? I do have to eat, you know.

 **[Stiles S. 12.21 am]** Well, I kinda just assumed you lived off take-out and stuff like dead bears and rabbits.

 **[Derek H. 12.24 am]** That's stupid. I don't eat raw meat. And take-out gets boring after a while.

 **[Stiles S. 12.26 am]** Dude, don't blame me. You just give off that 'raw meat' vibe.

 **[Derek H. 12.30 am]** I wasn't aware such a vibe existed.

 **[Stiles S. 12.32 am]** Well, it does.

Stiles pauses and wonders if he had just sent off a conversation-ender. Without meaning to, he was actually kinda having a lot of fun for the first time in ages. Minutes tick by and no text lit up his phone screen and Stiles wonders if he should say something else. Or should he just leave it? He closes his laptop and rolls over in bed.

 **[Derek H. 12.45 am]** Sorry, I had to take out the trash. Forgot that the garbage truck's coming tomorrow morning.

Stiles smiles in the dark. Imagining Derek doing domestic things was his new guilty pleasure, or so it seemed.

 **[Stiles S. 12.47 am]** Well, technically, it's coming today.

 **[Derek H. 12.50 am]** Oh yeah.

Well, okay then. What should he say next? Umm, maybe he should tell him about how he once chased the garbage truck two streets because he'd forgotten it was coming and he had forgotten to put out the trash.

 **[Derek H. 12.52 am]** You never told me why you seemed unhappy about working on the bestiary.

Stiles pauses. He's not sure whether he should tell Derek the truth, or say something sarcastic and sideline him. He starts to type out a snarky response but then deletes it. He shakes his head as he types out another reply. If Derek hadn't wanted Stiles on the job, he wouldn't have spent an hour conversing with him via text.

 **[Stiles S. 1.08 am]** I'm not unhappy that I'm working on the bestiary. I'm upset that you didn't ask me first, instead of asking for volunteers. I mean, I AM the researcher.

 **[Derek H. 1.14 am]** Oh. I just figured that since we're not really fighting creatures together anymore, this might be a way for the pack to bond again. Things seem a little – disunited.

 **[Derek H. 1.15 am]** I didn't mean to offend you.

 _I didn't mean to offend you_. Stiles reads it again and again and can't help but feel a little warm inside. Who would have ever imagined that the big bad Alpha could be so fluffy and adorable?

 **[Stiles S. 1.20 am]** It's okay, dude. I guess we are kind of disunited but seriously? A bestiary is no way to go about this. Only Lydia and I would ever even be interested in this kind of a thing. And Allison, maybe, but Scott would probably die of heartbreak if she stopped spending so much time with him.

 **[Derek H. 1.23 am]** That's kind of true. What do you suggest then?

Stiles stares. Is Derek Hale seriously asking **him** for help regarding pack bonding? He pinches himself to see if maybe he's dreaming. Nope. That's gonna leave a bruise for sure.

 **[Stiles S. 1.29 am]** Maybe movie nights. Pizza parties. Lacrosse games. I don't know – normal stuff, y'know? But definitely not translating archaic Latin or looking at gruesome pictures of evil monsters for days on end.

 **[Derek H. 1.34 am]** That's not a bad idea, Stiles.

 **[Stiles S. 1.38 am]** Thank you (bows)

 **[Derek H. 1.40 am]** Well, since some of us have work in the morning – goodnight, Stiles.

 **[Stiles S. 1.42 am]** I never would have imagined that at one point in my life, you would wish me goodnight via text.

 **[Stiles S. 1.45 am]** Wait, you work!?

 **[Stiles S. 1.46 am]** Where do you work!?

 **[Stiles S. 1.55 am]** Derek...

*

'Hey, did you know Derek works?' Stiles says, tying his apron with his phone balanced between his shoulder and cheek. On the other end, Scott heaves a loud sigh and yawns. In the background, Stiles can hear Allison gigging.

'No, I didn't know that, Stiles,' Scott says patiently.

'I wonder where he works though,' Stiles says thoughtfully as he rearranges the cups by size. 'I mean, I can't imagine him here, in Starbucks, and that's like the only local business I know that had an opening.'

'Mhm. Now, why are you calling me so early just to talk about where Derek works?'

'Dude! It's 10 AM!' Stiles says incredulously.

'Well, we were up la–' Scott starts to say but Stiles cuts him off with a loud groan.

'No, no, no, dude, dude. Stop right there. I don't wanna know,'

'Ah, okay.'

'But we still on for Saturday, right?' Stiles asks, crossing his fingers.

'Yeah, yeah, definitely. Now can I go back to –'

'DUDE. Just go,' Stiles says and hangs up, shaking his head. Sometimes Scott has a severe case of TMI and Stiles is sure that if he wasn't more alert, he would be scarred for life. He taps 'messages' and reads the conversation from last night, smiling. Derek hasn't replied yet, even though he's probably up and at 'work'.

 **[Stiles S. 10.15 am]** The only reasons I can think of for you not telling me are: a) it's an embarrassing place to work at, b) you're playing games with me, or c) you're not really working, you just wanted to sleep.

 **[Derek H. 10.25 am]** Of course I work, Stiles. How do you think I pay the rent?

 **[Stiles S. 10.27 am]** Well, how come no one has ever seen you work then? Even Scott didn't know.

Stiles fills out coffee orders, rings up bills, doles out change, takes his lunch break, calls Lydia, texts Scott and at four, he finally unties his apron and grabs the keys to his jeep. Derek still hasn't texted. He sighs and puts his phone back in his pocket. He has other things to do, right?

*

Stiles messes about on his computer, watching youtube videos, googling supernatural myths and creatures, looking up magical herbs, and trawling through a hundred chat rooms, for five straight hours before finally cracking.

 **[Stiles S. 11.20 pm]** Will you ever answer? :( It's driving me crazy.

Stiles wonders if that was too – forward. It's not like Derek and he were actually even friends. Derek and Isaac were friends, Derek and Erica were friends, Derek and Scott were – well, they were half-friends. But Derek and Stiles? They were more like 'I've saved your life multiple times, you've saved mine, okay then, thanks.' Derek used to get mad at him for running after the pack, straight into danger (multiple times), when he was just a human, and couldn't heal. And Stiles used to shout at him about loyalty and protecting your friends, damn the fucking healing powers. But ever since the monsters stopped, those particular arguments held no ground, and so, it really wasn't Stiles' fault if he couldn't manage to put a label on the two of them.

 **[Derek H. 11.48 pm]** Maybe I prefer it that way.

 **[Stiles S. 11.52 pm]** Oh my god. You really are playing games with me! Derek Hale! Playing games! WOW.

 **[Derek H. 12.00 am]** Sometimes you're really annoying.

 **[Stiles S. 12.05 am]** Yeah, I know. It keeps me up at night.

 **[Derek H. 12.07 am]** Well, these days, it's my texts.

Stiles stares at his phone screen, mouth hanging wide open. Was Derek flirting with him!? Was this really happening!? What the hell was going on!?

 **[Stiles S. 12.09 am]** Dude. Are you flirting with me?

Stiles waits nervously. He probably shouldn't have sent that last text. It was stupid. Oh, god, it was so stupid. Now Derek wasn't replying. He was probably shaking his head and laughing at Stiles' assumption that Derek Hale would actually ever flirt with someone like Stiles. Oh god.

 **[Stiles S. 12.20 am]** Please ignore my last message.

 **[Stiles S. 12.32 am]** It was stupid and I didn't mean to ask you that.

 **[Stiles S. 12.40 am]** I mean, why would you even flirt with me, right! We're not even friends, really.

 **[Stiles S. 12.58 am]** Okay, I'll stop now. Anyway, goodnight. I guess. 


	2. IN WHICH DEREK IS ACTUALLY FLIRTING WITH STILES

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you thank you THANK YOU for all your lovely comments! i feed on them. nom nom nom ^_^

If Derek was to say that he's never felt the urge to just push Stiles against the nearest wall and kiss him silly, he would be lying. He doesn't know exactly when he started finding Stiles so attractive, or when Stiles' scent became so intoxicating that his presence made him stumble over his words and scrambled his thoughts into an incoherent mess. Near the full moon, it would get worse, as Derek's sense sharpened. For a long time, he had stamped the feeling down, reminded himself of how Stiles was underage _and_ the Sheriff's son. Instead he had saved the idiot's life multiple times because Stiles somehow always managed to be the first of the Pack to faint, be kidnapped, maimed, mauled, or hurt in any number of ways. Well, the fainting usually came later, when he saw the werewolf wounds; wounds that could freaking heal, something Stiles could never seem to get through his damn head.

But the year that the monsters stopped plaguing Beacon Hills, Derek's pack quietly and slowly drifted away in separate directions. They were all in Beacon Hills, but what was the use of pack meetings when no one came? When no one was attacking them?

It was also the summer that Stiles turned eighteen and the summer where he and Derek began texting. It was Derek who texted him first, technically, but that had been a pack text, and wasn't specifically to him. But when Stiles texted back, they started something that soon became the highlight of Derek's day. He didn't know where he was going with it, or what Stiles wanted. They had never really been friends, they had never spent time together but Stiles was the only one who really stuck around that summer, though Derek was 99 per cent sure that it wasn't because of his own free will.

He had noticed Scott's scent growing fainter and fainter on Stiles. It was no secret that the young Beta was now spending the bulk of his time with Allison. He didn't know why, but that fact made Derek feel sad for Stiles. After the nogitsune, Stiles had never really recovered and seemed to need people around him constantly. Derek also knew about his nightmares, not that Stiles had volunteered the information. But sometimes, Derek liked to check up on his pack. Okay, maybe just Stiles. But he'd checked up on Isaac too. Occasionally.

*

 **[Stiles S. 11.20 pm]** Will you ever answer? :( It's driving me crazy.

Derek smiles as he shoves the last forkful of salad in his mouth and gets up to put the plate in the sink. It had become a routine. Stiles would always text when he was having dinner, and Derek would always settle on the couch, dishes forgotten, to reply to him.

Not telling Stiles what he did for a living was strangely satisfying, actually. Who knew teasing Stiles could be so much fun? He grins as he types out his reply.

 **[Derek H. 11.48 pm]** Maybe I prefer it that way.

 **[Stiles S. 11.52 pm]** Oh my god. You really are playing games with me! Derek Hale! Playing games! WOW.

Derek actually laughs at that. Stiles' incredulity is so apparent, he can just imagine him standing there, in front of him, mouth hanging open and eyes wide, his fingers splayed over his hips, his collar bones jutting out under pale skin. Derek shakes his head clear.

 **[Derek H. 12.00 am]** Sometimes you're really annoying.

 **[Stiles S. 12.05 am]** Yeah, I know. It keeps me up at night.

 **[Derek H. 12.07 am]** Well, these days, it's my texts.

Before he knows it, he's hit 'send' and the text is gone. Derek flips his phone in his hand nervously. It was one thing to be attracted to Stiles, it was another to act upon it. Sure, Stiles was eighteen now, but he was still the Sheriff's son and Derek knew for sure that the Sheriff would never let him date him. And after Kate, and then Jennifer, he really wasn't sure he could even date someone. He'd gone out a couple of times, to get drunk on aconite whiskey and pick someone up, but it had never worked. So he'd stopped trying and then Stiles had come along. Stiles with his mole-dotted skin and his mouth that was never not moving. And Derek felt an attraction that he hadn't even felt with Kate.

His heart thumps when the text from Stiles lights up his phone and he opens it with shaking fingers.

 **[Stiles S. 12.09 am]** Dude. Are you flirting with me?

He heaves a sigh of relief. This isn't so bad. This he can get through, right? It's not like Stiles out-right laughed at him or rejected him. He starts to type out a reply.

 **[Derek H. 12.11 am]** Yeah, kind of? I gue –

 **[Derek H. 12.14 am]** No, why would you think tha –

 **[Derek H. 12.18 am]** Mayb –

He stops. This isn't working. He doesn't know what to say. Everything he types seems wrong. So he flings the phone on the couch and gets up to do the dishes. He breaks a plate because he's too nervous and his heart keeps beating wrong but it's one of the ones Peter bought, so that's okay. He hears the phone buzz twice but he ignores it, wanting his head to be clear and calm before he – oh, who's he kidding? He wipes his hands on his shirt and grabs his phone.

 **[Stiles S. 12.20 am]** Please ignore my last message.

 **[Stiles S. 12.32 am]** It was stupid and I didn't mean to ask you that.

He's just reading the messages when he gets another one.

 **[Stiles S. 12.40 am]** I mean, why would you even flirt with me, right! We're not even friends, really.

He freezes, looking at the text. _We're not even friends,really._ He reads it again and then clicks off his phone and throws it back onto the couch. Stiles is right, they're not really friends. Scott is Stiles' friend. Derek is just the big bad alpha, the sourwolf, the guy who has barely any furniture in his loft except for a DVD player and a TV and a lone _Spiderman_ box set that Stiles brought over once to watch and then forgot to take home. Derek drops to the ground and starts his nightly push ups, trying to block his mind of everything else. Stiles would never like him that way. At most, he was the guy who had saved his life at least five times, taken his pain away when the boy had been too delirious to notice, the black veins snaking up his arms and making his heart almost stop because of the excruciating pain. At some point, the phone beeps again but Derek ignores it. He knew even remotely flirting with the kid was a bad idea; he didn't need any more confirmation for that.

*

The hag sneaks up on them so fast they don't even notice. One day, Beacon Hills is normal as any other town in America but the next day, Scott has a huge chunk out of his leg, Erica is lying motionless on the grass, Boyd looking back at her every two minutes while he tries to fight off the plants the hag seems to be controlling. Derek shifts, howling into the night and rushing towards the hag but she throws him off easily and he lands two feet away with a hard thump. Stiles growls from somewhere to his left, holding up his baseball bat and Derek shakes his head in equal parts irritation and panic. The kid never learnt. Who had told him to come anyway? Derek hadn't texted him.

'Get the hell out of here, Stiles!' he shouts, getting back to his feet and roughly pushing Stiles further into the undergrowth, towards Allison who was standing silently with her bow, shooting arrows at every opportunity she got.

'Get the fuck off me! I can take care of myself!' Stiles says, his eyes furious as he pushes past Derek and starts to sneak up on the hag from behind. Derek wants to growl at him and pull him back but he's too close now for the hag not to notice if Derek called attention to him slowly sneaking up. He watches as he raises the bat and then everything seems to happen almost in slow motion. Isaac hisses and rears up with his claws and the hag cackles as she throws him off. Stiles is almost behind her when she realizes his presence and she turns, her eyes a dangerous red, claws swiping at Stiles' chest.

Derek roars as he rushes forward, catching Stiles as he crumples with a howl, somehow managing to throw his bat straight at the hag's head who drops like a stone as the metal comes into contact with her evil face.

'Goddamn it, Stiles,' Derek says angrily, tearing his shirt off with a claw to reveal four deep and angry claw marks on the pale skin. Stiles grins sloppily, his eyes fluttering. 'I got the bitch, didn't I?' he slurs just before he faints in Derek's arms.

'Stiles!' Scott shouts, limping over as fast as he can, Isaac and Allison right behind him. Boyd has rushed over to Erica who still isn't moving. 'Ohmygod, what the hell happened?' Scott gasps as he reaches them, looking at Derek in shock.

'They're pretty deep, I think we need to take him to Deaton,' Derek says, getting up with Stiles still in his arms. 'I can run there faster than if we take a car. Meet us there,' he says, adjusting the boy's body and trying to control his rising panic. 'Is Erica okay?' he calls out to Boyd and Boyd turns to look at him with a weak smile and a thumbs up. Derek nods.

'You can run while holding him?' Allison asks. 'Yes,' Derek says before taking off. It's slightly more difficult than running alone but it's nothing really, because it's Stiles. He keeps replaying the moment over and over again in his head, mentally giving Stiles hell for not listening to him. They reach Deaton in less than five minutes and he carries him in when the vet opens the door in his pajamas, wordlessly.

'What creature did this?' Deaton asks in his calm tone while Derek stands next to the bed, panting lightly. 'A hag,' Derek replies, watching as Deaton carefully cleans the wounds and then starts rubbing salve on them.

'They're not deep enough to change him,' Deaton says after a while. 'I would suggest you take him to Beacon Memorial and let Mrs. McCall take care of him. He's going to be in a lot of pain for a while so I'm giving him some sedatives. He should sleep most of the pain off. He may be delirious when he wakes and he may even have hallucinations. A chemical element in hag claws can bring those about. But if he's properly taken care of and rests, he should be fine within a week.' Deaton turns to smile at Derek who doesn't return it. 'That's good,' he says instead, 'I can absorb some of his pain if it will help,' he offers but Deaton shakes his head. 'You've just healed yourself. Taking in someone's pain could be detrimental. I would advise against it.' He snaps off his gloves and replaces his instruments in the silver tray next to Stiles' arm. 'You may take him to the hospital now. Shall I drive you?'

'No, I can run,' Derek says, lifting Stiles up again and cradling his body against his chest. 'Thank you.'

*

Derek visits often. The Sheriff and Scott stay nights, alternating. Derek usually arrives with breakfast for whoever stayed and stays till late afternoon. He visits again in the evening and offers to stay the night but the Sheriff or Scott always tell him it's okay, they've got this. If anyone notices that Derek visits more than it's necessary for him to visit, they don't say anything. As for Derek, he tells himself it's because he's the Alpha and checking up on sick members of the Pack is his responsibility.

*

'Uhhh,' Derek jumps awake at the low sound from Stiles'. The clock near the door tells him it's four am. The Sheriff had the night shift and Scott's dad was in town so Derek's daily offer of staying the night had been gratefully accepted this time.

'Anyone here? Dad? Scott?' Stiles groans, looking around the dim room blearily. Derek gets up from the couch and sinks into the chair next to his bed. 'Hey,' he says, 'how're you feeling?' Stiles turns his head and gives him a weak smile. 'To what do I owe the pleasure, O Mighty Alpha?' he says, stumbling over his vowels.

'I take it you're still drugged up,' Derek says, leaning over the chair to glance at the chart at the foot of the bed. 'And I take it you're still looking mighty fine,' Stiles slurs, winking. Derek doesn't know what to do with that so he clears his throat and leans back in his chair. 'Um, do you need anything? Shall I get you something?' he asks and Stiles turns his head and closes his eyes. 'What wouldn't I give for a coffee right now,' he murmurs and Derek is too busy looking at his pale throat to actually listen. 'Yeah,' he mumbles and then shakes his head clear.

'Some water?' he asks, getting up and filling the Styrofoam cup on the table next to the bed. 'That would be great, I'm parched,' Stiles says, trying to get up but wincing when the stitches on his chest start to hurt. Derek sets the cup down and places a hand on Stiles' arm, black veins running up his own.

'Dude, that must hurt,' Stiles whispers when he notices Derek's scrunched up face. 'It's nothing,' Derek says, removing his hand and giving him the cup. 'Better?' Stiles grins. 'Much,' he says, downing his water.

'So, where's Scott? And my dad?' Stiles asks, his face brighter as he puts the cup back on the table and sits up. 'Scott's dad is in town and your dad had a night shift today,' Derek says, sitting down again. Stiles nods and they don't speak for a while.

'Hey, um, you never texted back,' Stiles finally says and Derek looks away. He had been afraid of this. 'Yeah, I was, um, busy,' he says and he knows it's a weak excuse but Stiles doesn't call him out on it. 'Okay,' Stiles says, shrugging. 'Hey, could you hand me my phone?' he asks instead, and Derek gets up and looks through Stiles' things for it. 'Here' he says, handing it to him. 'Thanks,' Stiles says, unlocking it and turning away. Derek stands by his bed for a while but Stiles has pulled up Candy Crush so Derek goes back to the couch and lies down on it again, feeling terrible. His phone beeps and he pulls it out of his jacket pocket and stares at the text from Stiles.

 **[Stiles S. 4.21 am]** Would you prefer it if we texted? I know you're not great with words and people and stuff.

Derek looks over at Stiles, an eyebrow raised, but Stiles doesn't even glance at him. After a moment's hesitation, Derek starts to type out a reply.

 **[Derek H. 4.22 am]** This is kind of insane.

 **[Stiles S. 4.23 am]** Not really. Thanks for absorbing my pain by the way, I feel a lot better.

Derek can't help but smile at that.

 **[Derek H. 4.23 am]** It was nothing.

 **[Stiles S. 4.25 am]** So I'm probably right when I say that you're mad at me for coming after you guys when you were fighting the hag. Forgive me? :(

 **[Derek H. 4.27 am]** You're an idiot and a lot worse could've happened to you and you know it.

 **[Stiles S. 4.28 am]** But it didn't...

 **[Derek H. 4.30 am]** You don't need my forgiveness, Stiles.

Derek sends the text and waits but Stiles doesn't text back. He can hear faint music again which means he's pulled up his game again. Derek sighs and turns the other way and closes his eyes.

*

Stiles is officially discharged a week after the incident. Derek goes back to the loft and sinks onto his couch with some aconite whiskey. Stiles and he hadn't really talked after that brief texting thing in the hospital the night before. He takes a sip of the whiskey and ignores Isaac who wants him to move over so he can watch some TV.

After a while Isaac gives up and tells him he's a lousy flatmate and that he's going to Scott's. Derek winces as he slams the door behind him and leans his head back, closing his eyes. He's tired and he doesn't know where he stands with Stiles and all he wants to do at that point is just forget the past three weeks and start over with a clean slate and never text Stiles back that first night about the bestiary. It was easier just to know Stiles from afar and save his life a few times and pretend that his growly, grumpy exterior reflected his true feelings about the boy. Derek sets the bottle down on the coffee table and lets his head fall in his hands, his fingers tangling in his hair. He needed to shower and he needed to finish editing the book the publisher had sent him and he needed to get Stiles out of his mind. But all his determination about the matter disappears when his phone beeps and he just knows it's Stiles.

 **[Stiles S. 3.15 pm]** Hey, they tell me you're the one who took me to Deaton and the hospital. I just wanted to thank you... preferably with cookies? Chocolate chip, what do you say?

Derek reads the text again and rubs a hand over his face. Stiles sounded like his old self again. This felt like their old texts again. He sighs and starts to type.

 **[Derek H. 3.18 pm]** I'm more of a peanut butter kinda guy, actually.

 **[Stiles S. 3.19 pm]** Really! I would never have imagined... peanut butter, huh?

 **[Derek H. 3.21 pm]** My mom used to make them for us when we were little.

He presses send and throws the phone next to him on the couch. Half an hour later, his whiskey is gone and there's no text from Stiles. He's slightly drunk and didn't expect anything more so it's easy to turn off his phone and go for that much needed shower.

*

Stiles stares when Derek opens the door, shirtless and slightly sweaty from his push ups. He feels a sense of grim satisfaction when Stiles swallows visibly and then stumbles into the loft. 'What do you want, Stiles?' Derek huffs, crossing his arms and glaring at the boy.

'I, uh, brought you the peanut butter cookies,' Stiles says, rubbing the back of his head with one hand and holding out a tin of cookies with his other. Derek raises an eyebrow and takes the box he's offering and sets it down on the counter next to him.

'You're not gonna try them?' Stiles asks, sounding slightly hurt. 'I spent the entire morning baking them. They're my mom's recipe and they're really good!' Derek doesn't reply. 'You're mad at me, aren't you?' Stiles finally asks. 'I don't get it. You save me from the hag and you visit me more often than Scott visits me in the hospital and then I bake you cookies as a thank you and you can't even accept those with politeness. God!' Stiles throws his hands up in a helpless gesture. 'What the hell did I ever do?'

'Look, I get it, okay,' Derek finally lets out, pulling on a shirt lying on his couch. 'We're not friends and you're not obligated to thank me for taking you to Deaton or the hospital or anything. I would've done that for anyone. So you don't have to pretend anymore.' Stiles narrows his eyes and looks at Derek.

'What do you mean, we're not friends?' he asks slowly. Derek crosses his arms again and glares at him. 'You said it yourself, in that text,' he bites out, pulling up the messages on his phone and flipping it around to show Stiles. The boy's eyes widen and he looks at Derek, biting his lip.

'Oh, Derek, I'm sorry.. I didn't mean it that way,' he says, 'You know how I get when I ramble. I was nervous about the flirty text and it made me say stupid things. Oh god, is that why you've been acting so strange?' he asks, stepping closer. 'I'm really sorry,' he repeats.

'It's okay,' Derek says gruffly as he reaches for the tin and unwraps the packaging. 'These look good,' he admits, taking a cookie and sniffing it. 'Sorry, werewolf thing,' he says when he notices Stiles staring. He takes a bite and closes his eyes, the peanut butter flavor exploding in his mouth and reminding him of Talia and Cora and Laura all standing in the kitchen, baking. Laura and Cora would try to shoo him out when he tried to help and tell him only girls could bake and Talia would laugh and give him the bowl to scrape clean. He opens his eyes and notices that Stiles is still staring at him, mouth slightly open.

'Dude, I think you just moaned,' he says in wonder and Derek feels himself grow red. 'I did not,' he says and watches as an evil grin slowly spreads over Stiles' face. 'You totally did!' he crows, clapping his hands together and laughing.

'Well, they are rather good,' Derek admits grudgingly, taking another one from the tin and avoiding Stiles' eyes. 'Thank you, thank you,' Stiles says in a mock formal voice, bowing low. When he bobs up, he winces slightly. 'Ouch, these fucking stitches still hurt, ow,' he says, sinking into the couch behind him and rubbing a hand over his chest. Derek puts the tin down and rushes over.

'Does it hurt a lot?' he asks, anxiety creeping into his voice. It had been a week and a half and Deaton had assured him it would've healed by now. 'No, not really. I think it's just because I bent over,' Stiles says, but his voice, laced with pain, gives him away. Derek puts a hand on his and concentrates but black veins don't run up his arms. He frowns and then looks up at Stiles.

'I think because the wounds have mostly healed, the pain is only concentrated in your chest and I can't absorb any from your hand,' he says. They look at each for a while before Derek slowly reaches for the top button of Stiles' shirt and pops it open. His eyes flick to the small triangle of pale flesh before flicking back up to Stiles' eyes. Stiles pops open a second button and Derek slowly places his hand on his chest, eyes fluttering shut as black veins start to snake up his arm. After a minute, the black fades to gray and when he opens his eyes, Stiles is staring at him with an unreadable expression. Derek draws his hand away and starts to clear his throat but before he knows it, Stiles has lunged forward, grabbed his face with both his hands and is desperately pressing his lips against his. Derek stills for a moment but then his arms wrap around Stiles' waist of their own accord and he kisses back with fervor, the kiss tasting of peanut butter because of Stiles' cookies.

When Stiles pulls away, he leans his forehead against Derek's and pants lightly. 'Whoa,' he whispers, his breath falling on Derek's lips. Derek grins. 'That was – awesome,' Stiles says, rubbing his fingers through Derek's hair. 'Do you think maybe we can do that again?' he asks but Derek's already kissing him again, pushing him into the back of the couch and sliding his hands under his shirt and over his smooth back. Stiles responds with eagerness and they kiss till Stiles has to breathe again.

'if asdfghjkl was a word, I would be saying it right now,' Stiles says, his lips kiss-swollen and red. 'You just did,' Derek points out, sliding off him and returning to the tin of cookies.

'Soooo,' Stiles says, rubbing the back of his head and grinning. 'So were you really flirting with me, back then?' he asks, getting up and stealing a cookie from the tin.

'Yeah, I guess I was,' Derek admits between bites. 'I knew it,' Stiles crows, putting a whole cookie in his mouth and shrugging when Derek makes a face. 'What? I'm hungry,' he says defensively. 'I haven't had lunch yet.'

Derek clears his throat and glances at the pot of spaghetti on the kitchen table. 'Um, so I made spaghetti and meatballs for lunch. I haven't eaten yet either.' Stiles grins. 'I'd love to have lunch with you, if that's what you wanted to ask,' he says, waggling his eyebrows. Derek nods, smiling.

'Hey, wait a minute,' he says, pulling Stiles back as he starts towards the kitchen. 'Wha--' But he's interrupted by Derek kissing him again.

'Okay, now we can eat,' Derek says, pulling back. Stiles smiles and walks into the kitchen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case anyone was wondering, derek is a book editor for a publishing house two towns over :)


End file.
